Wish You Could Curl Up Into A Ball And Die

, , , , | Friendly | January 29, 2018

I had been watching a YouTube channel that deals with death and the funeral industry, and I pulled up a video on my cell to show a friend. The next morning, I went into a quiet coffee shop for breakfast. There were only two other customers, chatting quietly with the staff. I decided to do some reading while I ate and tried to open a browser with one hand while undoing my jacket with the other. Unfortunately, the video was still open on my browser and I managed to hit the play button. So, loudly, in this quiet coffee shop, these words boomed out from my phone: “Haven’t you ever just wanted to touch a corpse?”

The place went silent as I quickly muted my phone, and I got quite a few looks from the customers. I just kind of mumbled an apology, something along the lines of, “I don’t know how that video got there,” but I’m still pretty sure they thought I was a necrophiliac or something.

Not Tipped To Be A Good Place To Work

, , , , , , , | Working | January 29, 2018

I worked for a coffee shop chain and had just transferred to a new store after moving. The way the company did our tips was to collect them for the week, count how much we had received, and find an hourly tip rate based on the number of hours worked that week. Then, people were tipped out based on how many hours they had worked during the week. Tips only went to hourly employees, and we weren’t supposed to discuss tips with management. We didn’t know how much came in in tips, or how much the hourly tip rate was. We didn’t keep a record of the tips from week to week. Once everyone had picked up their tips, the tip sheet was tossed.

At my old store we had three people who were trained on how to deal with tips and would rotate doing so. I was one of these people. When I transferred to my new store, I found out that only one person did tips. I found that a bit odd, and when I inquired as to why, I was told they hadn’t had time to train anyone else. So, I let my store manager know that I knew how and would be happy help with tips here.

After my first week at the store when I got my tips, I was a bit sad to see that I only got $1.32 per hour; my old store tips had been about $2.50 per hour. I wasn’t too surprised, though; my first store had been in a more affluent area and this was more rural. I had also come from a stand-alone store, and this was a drive-through, which meant we had a larger staff and that people would sometimes steal our tip box.

The next week, I got my tips again, and again they were $1.32 per hour. I found this very strange as we didn’t often get the exact same hourly rate. My first store we had as much as a 75-cent swing based on time of year, hours worked, and other factors. The third week, the tip rate was once again exactly $1.32 per hour.

The fourth week, my manager actually took me up on my offer, and I got to do tips. When I was finished doing tips, they were $2.14 per hour. The following week, the first person did it again, and tips were $1.32 per hour. The following week, I did tips, and they were $2.20 per hour. After this I went to my manager.

I told him that I thought something fishy was going on, that I had never seen a tip rate be the exact same week after week, and that when I did tips they were at least 80 cents higher and they fluctuated like they were supposed to. He told me that he would look into it.

A couple days later, the assistant manager came to me and told me that they had decided that my personality didn’t match the store’s atmosphere and that they had decided to transfer me to the other store in town. At that time, nothing happened to the other person who was doing tips. The other employees had now seen that something was going on with their tips, but there was no paper trail or any way to prove how much they should have gotten.

I was actually glad to be out of that store; it wasn’t a great working environment. After I left, they did change the way they did tips, and now two people had to count the money and figure out the tip rate, which was around $2.25 per hour with a normal fluctuation. A year later, the assistant manager and the other person who did tips were both fired for stealing from the company.

Offering A Knuckle Sandwich

, , , , , , , | Right | January 18, 2018

(I am a very petite female. I am the customer at a coffee shop I frequent often. The employees are very nice and most of them know me by now. I purchase a sandwich and a drink, set up my laptop, open the sandwich, and begin to work. A few minutes later I go to the restroom, leaving behind my items, only to come out to a man in his mid-40s eating my sandwich, right next to where I have been sitting. I hate confronting people and would have brushed it off, but it is just too weird.)

Me: “Excuse me. Are you eating my sandwich?”

Customer: “No, this is mine.”

Me: “I took a couple bites out of it, and there’s lip-gloss on the bite marks on ‘your’ sandwich.”

Customer: “Get your own! You young people are always taking things away from the more deserving!”

Me: *now confused and embarrassed, as everyone in the shop is staring* “Sir, that’s my sandwich. You can have it. It’s no big deal; it’s just a turkey sandwich. But I’m not the thief, here.”

Employee: “Wait. Sir, did you take this woman’s sandwich?”

Customer: “No. I’ll fight her for it!”

Employee & Me: *at same time* “You want to fight for it?!”

(There is moment of silence as the other customers and employees look back and forth between my five-foot frame and the man’s six-foot frame. The other customer looks around for a moment, then grabs my sandwich and runs out.)

Employee: “Do you want another sandwich?”

Me: “I don’t think I’ll ever eat a turkey sandwich again.”

Not A High Chance Of Getting The Job

, , , , , , , , | Working | January 18, 2018

I am 17. I see a “Help Wanted” sign across the street from my high school. The shop is also across the street from a large university campus. I go in and ask for an application. This all proceeds as normal; the barista gives me an application and offers me a free drink.

The next day, I return to the coffee shop to turn in my completed application. The barista directs me to the manager and I turn my application in to him. While busy, he seems friendly enough, and offers to give me an interview at 4:00 pm the next day.

I show up the following day about ten minutes early. The manager is nowhere in sight, so I inform the barista that I am ready for him, and once again, I am offered a free drink. I sit in the coffee shop and wait for the manager to come.

And wait.

After an hour with no sign of the manager, I ask the barista if my interview has been cancelled. The barista, who seems to have forgotten I was there, yelps in surprise and tells me that the manager isn’t in. She then goes to the back and calls him. She returns and tells me that he stepped out to run some errands and should be back in about 20 minutes.

The manager finally arrives, and after getting directions from the barista, comes over to me with a stack of applications. He shuffles through the papers, finds my application, and skims over it. He looks up at me and says, “You’re in high school?”

I answer, “Yes.”

“Sorry, we’re actually only looking for college students right now, because they have more availability.” The manager then dismisses me before I even have the chance to explain that I only take classes in the morning.

There’s No Saving Her From That Grouch

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2018

(We have a customer who is always rude, but we treat her with as much respect as any other customer. She always orders a large cappuccino, and despite the fact that it’s not standard to put chocolate on it, she demands angrily for “no chocolate on top” every time. She has also been known to cancel transactions for silly reasons like us asking her name. For some reason, she has taken a particular dislike to me over all of my other coworkers. I have recently been made Coffee Master for the store, and I have the shirt to go along with it. I am wearing it at the time. I am stocking ice and cleaning the cold beverage station when I hear the automatic doors open and look over my shoulder.)

Grouchy Customer: *walks in and looks up*

Me: “Hi! What can I get for you?”

Grouchy Customer: “Hmph!” *walks out*

(The supervisor just about wet herself laughing.)

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